


A Sweet Tale

by kat_snow2613



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-06
Updated: 2016-11-06
Packaged: 2018-08-29 12:49:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8490481
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kat_snow2613/pseuds/kat_snow2613
Summary: Jon asks Sansa to go to the crypts with him.





	

Sansa was exhausted. She must have walked the length of Winterfell ten times over. She had been to the top of the ramparts to inspect the damage and make plans for the repairs. She had been to the cellars to take an inventory. She had seen to the maester and the wounded, making sure he had enough supplies. Her back ached and her feet hurt, and she had never been gladder for it. She was home. Her home was a mess, but it was hers. A fire blazed in the courtyard. They burned the bodies—Jon’s insistence—and the Bolton’s banners with them.

Later that afternoon, Sansa was standing, speaking with a blacksmith, hearing his grievances. He complained loudly about the Boltons and Sansa listened carefully. Then his voice broke. Tears formed in his eyes. His daughter had been raped twice by Ramsey. Sansa took his hand in hers. “I know it doesn’t change what happened, but he’s dead now. I hope you and your daughter can take some comfort in that.” The man wiped at his tears angrily. “Aye, m’lady. Good and dead.” He stared hard at the blaze. Sansa was certain he imagined Ramsay’s body burning, his flesh melting.

“If you or your daughter need anything, please come directly to me,” Sansa said.

“I thank you m’lady. Best get back to work.”

She turned and was surprised to see Jon standing there, watching her. There were times she felt he could move as quietly as his direwolf.

“Jon, you surprised me. If you’ve got some time, I’d like your help reviewing the inventory. Do you know how much salt beef the Night’s Watch would ration per man?”

Jon smiled sadly at her. “I’d be happy to, Lady Stark. But first there’s something I’d like your help with, if you’d been so kind.”

“Of course, how can I help?” Sansa asked.

“Will you go see her with me?” 

Sansa was puzzled. “See who?”

“Her.” 

Sansa’s eyes adjusted to the darkness of the crypts. Even with the torches, it was still dark. She lit several candles in the sconces on either side of Lyanna.

Jon stood, moving no more than the statue in front of him. Sansa continued to focus on lighting the candles, in an attempt to give him some privacy. She wasn’t entirely sure why her cousin had asked her to come here with him. She would have thought that he would want some time alone with her. Finally, when there were no more candles Sansa could possibly light, she went and stood beside him. The crypt was silent until Jon’s voice flooded the space with anger and sadness.

“She was down here the whole time.” 

His face screwed up. 

“She was down here the whole time, and father never told me.” 

Sansa felt sadness wash over her. Jon had grown up a bastard, but worse, he grew up not knowing who his mother was. Even the poorest of orphans could beg a story or a description of their lost parent from a relative, but Father hadn’t even given that to Jon. 

Sansa knew that her father had kept Lyanna’s identity from Jon to protect him, but she suspected that this was not the time to remind Jon of that. She didn’t know what to say, so she decided it was best to keep quiet and let Jon speak if he would.

“I had no idea who my mother was. People used to tell me she was likely a whore.” Jon’s jaw tightened.

Sansa began softly. “I never thought your mother was a whore, Jon. Not once.”

“No?” Jon asked hopefully.

“Never. In fact, quite the opposite. I thought that for my father to betray his vows, that your mother must have been the most beautiful woman in the world.”

“You didn’t really think that.” Jon said defensively.

“I did too. I thought she was a beautiful princess, from some mysterious land, stuck in a tower, and father rescued her. She was so taken with his courage and bravery, that they fell in love and had a baby. Father had to return home to be with my mother, and she was so heartbroken that she made him take the baby. Of course, I was only a child, so I was a bit foggy on the specifics, but I knew that your mother must have been a beautiful princess,” Sansa stated.

“That’s a sweet tale, Sansa,” Jon sniffled.

“It’s true, Jon. Your mother married a prince. That makes her a beautiful princess, in a tale or no.”

“Do you really think they married?”

“Howland Reed kept the secret for nineteen years. I can’t see why he’d lie about that part.”

“I know he was trying to protect me, but…” He trailed off, unable to finish his thought.

“That doesn’t make it any easier, Jon.”

Jon finally started to cry freely. Sansa wrapped her arms around him.

“Nothing I say can make this easier. But I know that Lyanna loved you. And Father loved you, Jon. He was so proud of you,” Sansa whispered.

“I wish he were here,” Jon choked. 

“Oh, Jon. Me too.” Sansa rested her head against him. They stood like that a long time, the candles flickering over the tomb. Jon’s tears gradually quieted. Sansa handed him a handkerchief. 

“Come,” he touched her arm. “Let’s go.”

The warmth and light of the fire in Sansa’s chamber was a welcome relief. Sansa poured them each a glass of wine. She settled into a plush chair while Jon sat on a bench.

“Thank you for coming with me,” Jon said half to Sansa, half to the glass of wine.

“Of course. Honestly, I’m a bit surprised you wanted me there. I thought it’s something you would have wanted to do on your own.”

“To be perfectly honest, I’m afraid of the crypts.”

Sansa couldn’t help but chuckle. “You’ve killed wights, but the crypts frighten you?”

Jon smiled, but he refused to look up from his glass of wine. “While I was at the Wall I had a dream, in the crypts, with the old Kings of Winter and their terrible swords and worn faces. I was down there, with no light, but I had to keep going. I knew I didn’t belong there.”

Sansa stood, and crossed to the bench. She sat next to Jon and took his hand.

“You belong there, Jon. You’re a Stark. You belong here.”


End file.
